


Griffin's Anatomy: Murphy

by HawthorneWhisperer



Series: Griffin's Anatomy [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 09:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4095976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawthorneWhisperer/pseuds/HawthorneWhisperer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Whoops I wrote myself a new OTP.  I did not mean for this to happen.  Credit to mereditheo for building the USS Harper x Murphy with her bare hands.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Griffin's Anatomy: Murphy

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops I wrote myself a new OTP. I did not mean for this to happen. Credit to mereditheo for building the USS Harper x Murphy with her bare hands.

“I need a metabolic panel on this one, and a liver function test on this sample,” Harper said entirely too cheerfully.  “How’s your day going, Jas?”

Murphy struggled to contain his snort while Jasper distractedly scribbled down her instructions.  “Oh, uh, it’s good.”

“That’s good.  Any plans for the weekend?”  Murphy rolled his eyes and this time he didn’t stifle his scoff. Harper glanced at him over her shoulder and barrelled on.  “I was thinking I’d go see a movie but I don’t know if anything good’s out.”

“What?  Oh, yeah, uh, I dunno,” Jasper muttered and finally Harper turned away, slightly crestfallen.  She shot a glare at Murphy as he slapped his patient’s blood sample down on Jasper’s counter.  

“Glucose test,” Murphy snapped and quickened his stride to catch Harper just as she stepped onto the elevator.  “Four,” he said and she hit the button for him.  “Jasper’s in love with Maya, you know.  Up in administration,” he told her, because  _everyone_  knew except for Harper, apparently.  And he couldn’t stand to watch her make a fool of herself, because god knew there were very few people in the hospital Murphy didn’t want to murder and Harper was on the short list.

A blush started staining her cheeks.  “So?”

“So?” He sighed.  “Seemed like pertinent information for you.”

“Thanks,” she said coldly just as the doors slid open and Murphy stepped out.  

***

Murphy stopped short when he saw Harper’s long blonde hair swaying in front of him.  “What are you doing here?” he asked her.

“They’re short staffed down here and peds was dead, so I came down to help out,” she said evenly. Her lime green sneakers squeaked as they walked. “By the way, have you seen Dr. Green anywhere?”

“Monty?  He’s around, probably,” Murphy said with a shrug.  Anesthesiology tended to pop in right before a patient went into surgery, but they weren’t a constant presence in the ICU.  “I like your shoes,” he called as he passed her up and headed into his patient’s room.

Harper ended up in the ICU all week and Murphy couldn’t help but notice that Green seemed to be haunting the floor too.  He’d see them chatting at the nurses’ station every so often, that sweet smile of hers constantly on her face.

He made it to Wednesday before he snapped.

Harper was lurking outside a patient’s door, frowning at his chart.  Murphy grabbed her arm and dragged her across the hall.  “What do you see?” he demanded, pointing at the patient’s room.

“A doctor talking to a patient,” she replied with a hint of exasperation.

“Be more specific.”

“Dr. Green, talking to Nathan Miller,  a cop with a gunshot wound that you guys patched up four days ago.”

Murphy sighed.  “Think about it.  Monty’s an anesthesiologist.”

“I know.  He worked on Nathan,” Harper threw back.  

“Exactly.  He’s an anesthesiologist, visiting a patient who hasn’t seen the inside of an OR in  _four. days._  A patient he’s stopped by to see  _every da_ y since his surgery despite there being no need for him to do so.”

He saw the exact moment she realized what he was implying and hated himself for it.  He strode off and pretended he didn’t hear her following him until she grabbed him and pushed him into an empty room.  “Why do you do this?” she snapped.  He’d never seen Harper angry before–he didn’t think she had it in her.

Anger suited her.

“Do what?”

“Don’t play dumb, John.  Why do you insist on humiliating me like that?”

He pretended like her use of his first name didn’t affect him.  “I’m not.”

“Please,” she said with a toss of her hair.  “First Jasper, now Monty.  I’m not an idiot, you know.”

“I know,” he protested.

“Then  _why_?  Why do you act like I need your help in this?”

“I just–” he pushed his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit he was trying to break.  “You deserve someone who wants you,” he exploded and pushed past her, refusing to look over his shoulder and see her reaction.

***

“Cheerleader, huh?  I’m jealous.  I always wanted to be a cheerleader in high school,” Harper told their fifteen year old patient conspiratorially.  “But the closest I ever got was watching Bring It On over and over again.”  The girl looked at her blankly.  “Oh my god, please tell me you’ve seen it,” Harper begged.  “Great.  Now I feel ancient.  I’d bring it for you, but my last roommate totally swiped it when she moved out.  Alright, Fox, Dr. Murphy here is going to get you checked out before surgery.  Hit this button if you need me, okay?”

Harper left without looking at him, which she’d been doing since the incident with Monty.  As usual, someone had taken his attempt to help and assumed he was being malicious, which was why he normally just let people fend for themselves.  He should have known it would blow up in his face, so he turned his attention to the patient.  Blake would murder him if he fucked up her pre-op assessment–Murphy would have thought finally getting laid again by Griffin would improve Caesar’s mood, but it hadn’t.  At least not toward him.  So Murphy focused on the patient and tried to forget the fact that Harper had barely acknowledged his existence in weeks.

***

Christmas Eve on the pediatric floor was depressing enough without one of the only people he didn’t hate angry with him.  Fox had been discharged two days ago but Harper had yet to interact with him in any capacity other than professional.  She and the other nurses decorated the patients’ rooms and Nyko dressed up as Santa, but to Murphy it was all a useless farce.  The kids knew it too, but the parents and staff were dedicated to the charade, complete with Harper wearing reindeer antlers, so it continued regardless.  Murphy always hated Christmas, because the constant insistence on family only reinforced exactly what he was missing.  It made him sort of a grinch but he didn’t really care.

(Much.)

Blake finally let him leave at ten pm with a gruff and insincere “Merry Christmas.”  Murphy passed by the deserted nurse’s station and then went down to the intern locker room.  He’d just balled his scrubs up and pulled on a sweater when the door swung open.

“John,” Harper said softly.  “Thank you.”

Murphy focused on pulling out his jacket.  “For what?”

She held up the dvd.  “For this.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“John,” she said again and rested her hand on his arm.  “Thank you.”

He kept his eyes trained on his locker.  “Merry Christmas,” he gritted out.  She wasn’t supposed to figure out it was him–that was why he disguised his handwriting and didn’t sign his name.  He should have guessed his plans wouldn’t work out.

Harper pressed a kiss to his cheek just as he gathered the courage to look at her, resulting in her lips landing on the corner of his mouth.  They both froze for a second, their eyes locked.

Murphy raised an almost-trembling hand to her cheek and closed the last few inches between them.  In general, he wasn’t much for sweet, lingering kisses.  That wasn’t his style.  Harsh and deliberately teasing, maybe.  But not gentle or tender.

But thus far, Harper had proved the exception to every rule and their kiss was no different.  His chest ached when she rolled back down to her heels and looked up at him through her eyelashes.  “What are you doing tonight?” she asked.

“Going home.”  He waited for her pity.

It never came. “Come home with me instead,” she offered and smiled at his nod.

Harper’s apartment was exactly what he expected–cheerful, girlie, and crammed with so many knicknacks there was hardly any flat surface left.  It was also decorated for Christmas, with a real tree in one corner and stockings hung over the tiny gas fireplace for her and her two cats, Buster and Sweetie.  It was a far cry from his depressing studio, which had caused more than one person to ask if he’d been recently released from prison.

She tangled their fingers together and led him to her bedroom and once again proved that everything he was sure of about himself was utterly, utterly wrong.  He liked things rough, with clashing teeth and growled challenges, like that time with Reyes the EMT.  He was not the type to press a woman into the mattress, drinking in her kisses like a drowning man in the desert.

Or he wasn’t, until her.


End file.
